History's Repetition?
by iPods-and-Tea
Summary: A still-dysfunctional Azula gives birth to a son. Is he a product of his mother, doomed to repeat history as the cliché or will he follow the path of his uncle?


The quiet drizzle of rain gave a pitter-patter against the bamboo roofing, creating an ironically peaceful ambience. Though, the serene atmosphere was shattered when the roll of thunderclouds came in and the lightning clashed and the thunder roared. That was a much more setting scene for the tone of this night.

"Azula, just get down-please," Her brother pleaded, but she remained on edge, tattered like a lunatic. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, "You need to get down," He repeated, gently but still firmly.

"I don't have to do anything but pay taxes and die," She cooed back with her ever-present calm demeanor. She still wore that same calculating disposition, seemingly unaware that her exterior appearance hadn't matched since she was fourteen or fifteen or so. That Azula, her incisive soul, had fled eight years ago.

"You have _an obligation_ to that child in there!" Zuko cracked, now shouting. She scoffed.

"What obligation could I possibility possess? I did enough for the pathetic little parasite already," Azula chimed back.

"That _parasite_ is _your son_!" Zuko screamed across out the window. The winds were howling fiercely, blowing freezing rain up into their faces like shard shards that cut into their flesh.

"What does that matter? No one ever gave a platybear's behind for duty or obligation out of being our children? Your face is the essence of proof for my statement," Azula said shrewdly as her disheveled, raven bangs blew with the rain through the wind, she was still balancing back and forth on the railing of the balcony of her apartment. Zuko's heart continued to pound in his chest.

"Yes, our father was terrible, Azula! He never loved either of us, abused us even, believe me, I know how it hurt too! But that's even more of a reason to be a better parent, don't let him win!" Zuko argued, if winning a competition wouldn't get her the hell down, nothing would.

"But you had mother, someone loved you," She replied curtly.

"Azula, how many times do Uncle and I have to tell you? She loved you just as much as she loved me, now would you get down!" Zuko demanded.

"Funny. You always reprimanded and condemn me for my dishonest attribute, yet now you seem to be quite the paragon of it," Azula cackled as her foot slid on the railing and she swung backwards.

"Azula!" Zuko screamed, but she regained her balance with a shot of fire from her hand to keep steady, and Zuko relinquished a sigh of relief. "Get down."

"And, if I don't?" Azula said with a menacing grin, how screwing with Zuzu never got tedious. Zuko knew all too well the game his sister was playing. He wasn't going to buy into it this time, he couldn't afford to.

"I don't know, nothing. I just…I just _want you to get down_," Zuko begged with sincerity, maybe that would get through to her with some miracle. Azula laughed.

"You don't give _a damn_ about me! You never have! You never will!" Azula screamed, her astute composure gone, shattered like that. She'd lost her durability duration over the years and over the events. Tears now streaming off her face, mixing in with the cold rain and wind, nearly inaudible through the clashes of thunder.

"That's a lie! You've become such an expert that you've mastered the art of lying to yourself!" Zuko shouted. The truth was, Zuko didn't _want_ to care about Azula, he wanted to hate her with ever ounce of his being, the way he loathed his father. He wanted to lock her up with charges of being a war criminal, to never see her psycho face again, forget her, the memories, everything about her, but he couldn't. He kept trying to help her; he kept trying to fix her, despite it all. And, he did hate Azula, but he loved her at the same time. He hated his father, but he just did, things were ambivalent and complicated with Azula. They always were. He hated her, what she'd done to him, his wife, his best friends, and mostly: his nephew. But he could not stop himself from reluctantly loving the clinically mad woman tiptoeing off the banister of a balcony, his little sister.

"No! No, I know how to mask myself for others and bottle away the rest inside!" Azula insisted, feverously nodding her head.

"You used to!" Zuko screamed. He didn't even know why he wanted to get her down; she needed to be locked up. What she'd just done would have her in prison the rest of her life. Maybe he just didn't want to add something else to his conscience.

"Uncle Zuko! Uncle Zuko!" A little boy came rushing towards the window where his uncle stood; he was still coated in blood.

"Get that wretch away from here!" Azula screamed and the boy clutched the bottoms of his uncle's robes and Zuko put a loving arm around the child. His body was coated in blood from head-to-toe, he had black-and-blue bruises and burnt scars all over his frail and nearly emaciated body, and his clothes were tattered and smelly.

"What's Mommy doing, Uncle Zuko? Tell her to get down, please!" The little boy earnestly pleaded, as tears flooded his eyes.

"Shhh, I'll make her come down, don't worry," Zuko assured his nephew as he stroked the boy's hair, but he didn't believe his uncle's soothing words, "Go wait in your room, Ozrin, okay?"

"Okay…" Ozrin muttered hesitantly as he glanced up at his mother's hateful, drunken gleam, then crawled back into his bedroom. Zuko didn't know what to do, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"_That's_ why you have to get down!" Zuko said sharply as he thrust his hand out, pointing in Ozrin's direction, a lump in his throat.

"_That's_ why I need to _fall off_," Azula stated in a sickly calm tone. With that, Azula stared her older brother in the eye and fell backwards, hurdling towards the murky waters below, the sea that housed a field of sharp and fatal rocks.

Three years post the Hundred Year War's end, the former princess lived as a ghost of her old self. Her pride and her brother's compassion had her living alone in a Fire Nation countryside, just on the outskirts of the royal palace after she'd been deemed sane by several mental clinics. Fire Lord Zuko reluctantly released her from the asylum due to his sister's allegations of the inhumane conditions the asylum had her under. He had strict surveillance guards posted in her apartment's vicinity, but the guards were young and more interested in the young female apartment occupants. For one, this included the ex-Princess Azula.

Despite the professionals' claims on Azula being sane, she was anything but mentally healthy. Though she may've appeared stable, she was running her life out of control. At only seventeen, she was getting constantly wasted and seducing different men into her bedroom every night. Inevitably, the young Azula became pregnant, and the word spread faster than wildfire. Tales of the ex-Princess as an unstable whore unfit to raise a child floated all over the nation. Zuko heard of this, and along with Avatar Aang as backup, went to Azula's home, on the face of congratulating his sister. He was really there to discuss the unborn child's custody.

Azula insisted on raising the child herself, despite her brother and the avatar's pleas for the child to be raised elsewhere, _anywhere_ elsewhere. Azula remained obstinate, she was the child's mother, and she would raise the baby. This, however, was out of no love for the child himself; it was a matter of pride. She saw motherhood as a challenge, a challenge Zuko saw her incapable of. She had to prove Zuzu wrong.

The child was born nine months later, Azula then eighteen, a boy. Azula named him Ozrin, in honor of Fire Lord Sozin and her father. The name already had Zuko uncomfortable for the poor baby's fate. Even Iroh pleaded with his niece, to allow him to raise the boy, swearing to love him like his own, of course, Azula had to prove her uncle wrong as well.

The next year, Zuko and his wife, Mai, bore a daughter, a girl they named after Zuko's mother, Ursa. Azula saw her niece as fierce competition; her son would be much better than that child. Azula had her son enlisted in the finest academy the Fire Nation held, talking Zuko into allowing it. She was repulsed at the fact her son held no bending abilities, and constantly ridiculed him for it. To make up for this disappointing fact, she forced the toddler into service for herself. He'd bring her and her suitor of the night alcohol every night, and Azula would lock Ozrin outside of the apartment, no matter what the weather. Ozrin would watch a different man stumble out of his house every night, hoping his mother wouldn't come out to beat or worse, burn him, shouting insults in his ear. Life at school was not much of an escape for the boy either. He was incessantly teased, despite his young age, about being the son of a madwoman, now known as a drunken, slutty, traitor. But it still beat being at home. Ozrin, however, still loved his mother dearly.

Ozrin's favorite day of the week was Saturday. Every Saturday, Uncle Zuko would allocate special time out of his hectic schedule to visit him, moreover, check on him. Sometimes, he'd even take him out somewhere, after cajoling Azula to grant him permission. When Ozrin would go out with his uncle, it didn't matter where he went, he felt like he was truly cared for and he didn't have to worry about a thing, he sometimes wished Uncle Zuko would just take him back to his palace he always talked about, but that was nothing to him but a pipedream. This pattern continued for years through Ozrin's childhood.

Through the last few months, it'd gotten worse. Azula was almost never sober, and her abuse to her son was spiraling out-of-control. Zuko was picking up on these tendencies and began checking on Ozrin on a daily basis, he was afraid for the boy, but knew Azula would refuse to hand her son over, no matter how much Zuko wanted to take him.

The night things took a turn for the worse was at Sokka and Suki's wedding reception. Sokka and Suki had adored Fire Nation country and seaside since Team Avatar's days on Ember Island as teens. They wanted their wedding there, so Zuko arranged it for them in the countryside, where a bay, and an apartment on the bay were right at reach. This apartment happened to be where Azula lived. Sokka and Suki had asked Zuko if they should invite her, since she would obviously be aware, but Zuko adamantly refused.

When Zuko heard shrills and shrieks and turned to see his nephew dangling from a balcony, he was beginning to regret his decision. He had his daughter on his shoulder and Katara was standing beside him, tickling Ursa's tummy, when Zuko witnessed this.

"Ozrin! For the love of…!" Zuko had screamed as Katara looked up and gasped in horror as well, Zuko panicked. He threw his daughter, who looked as if she too was going to cry, at Katara, and began darting towards his sister's apartment room. He thrust open the door and saw blood stained all over the carpet along with shattered, empty bottles of liquor. Zuko held his breath in horror and rushed over to the balcony where Azula had tied her son to one of the pillars. Zuko quickly untied the crying five-year-old who then clutched on to his uncle tighter than ever, crying into his shoulder. Zuko fought back his tears as his stroked the boy's bloody bangs from his face.

"Uncle Zuko, help mommy," Ozrin had cried, Zuko couldn't believe his words. He could tell Azula had beaten the child to a pulp, and burnt him all over, he was covered in scars, and Zuko couldn't comprehend the child's loyalty. But then his gut wrenched in his stomach at the striking parallel between his nephew and himself. His father had done nothing but abuse and berate him, yet all Zuko ever wanted was for his father to love and be proud of him. Ozrin to Azula was the same. Zuko wouldn't allow the same mistake that destroyed him to destroy his beloved nephew, he didn't care, and Ozrin was coming home with him tonight no matter what.

Zuko then diverted his eyes up out the window to see his sister dancing on the rail of the balcony like a deranged lunatic. Another mess he had to deal with, and how he cursed himself for not being able to hope she'd just slip off as those chilly storm clouds rolled in. He sent Ozrin to his room; he didn't want the boy to see whatever was about to happen. Azula then tiptoed back and forth upon the banister, telling Zuko how she'd tried all night to kill Ozrin, plotting to have a little fun first, and Zuko's stomach churned in disgust as she continued to flaunt on about how she was going to publically roast him while he hung from that pillar on the deck, so the roasted scent of his corpse would permeate the entire facility. Zuko then begged her to get down, sensing the danger, but this more than a psycho performance. Azula wanted to die.

This left Zuko in the present, watching his sister self-afflictively fall to her demise.

"Azula!" Zuko shrieked in lamenting terror, "Damn it, Azula, damn it!" Zuko screamed as tears rolled off his cheek. Ozrin heard his uncle's cry, and he raced into the room and then looked over the railing; he saw blood ooze to the surface; his mother's blood, bloodshed that was meant to be his.

Zuko continued to weep. He didn't know why he was crying, he was supposed to hate her; she tried to kill him and people he'd loved countless times. But he couldn't. He was her big brother, he was supposed to have protected her from their father, he was supposed to look after her for his mother, the day she ran off, he promised her he'd make sure she was okay. They were supposed to be strong; he was supposed to not let anything happen to her. This was his mother's daughter; she was the spitting image of her. And, Zuko had loathed her, but he loved her, and that's what all made the confusing pain even worse.

"Uncle!" The little boy cried as he started hyperventilating and reaching for his mother as Zuko wiped away his tears, regaining composure to help his nephew.

"No, no, Ozrin, come here," Zuko said as he pulled the hysteric boy back and cradled him in his arms, "We're gonna go home, okay, it's gonna be okay, I promise."

"But Mommy!" Ozrin screamed, fidgeting in his uncle's embrace and Zuko choked.

"She…she had to go, she was sick, Ozrin," Zuko said, which wasn't a lie, still barely fathoming that his baby sister had committed suicide, the guilt still tearing him up from the inside out as he spoke.

"Where do I go, Uncle? This is my home, I need Mommy!" Ozrin cried.

"No, no, no, shhhh, your new home is gonna be with Uncle Zuko and Aunt Mai, and your cousin, Ursa. You're going to live at the palace, with me, okay, I promise no one will ever hurt you there. We're going to get you cleaned up and the doctors will have a look at you, it's going to be just fine, I promise, Ozrin," Zuko said, fighting back tears as he rocked the crying, hysterical child in his arms.

"But…Uncle…Uncle!" Ozrin cried, "What do I do without Mommy?"

"My Mommy left too, Ozrin, but…" Zuko began, inhaling a deep breath, "My…My uncle took care of me too. Now, now I'll take care of you, just like my uncle did for me. He loved-well, Your Great-Uncle Iroh loves me, and I love you too, you know that, right, Ozrin? Uncle Zuko loves you, don't you think nobody loves you, because I love you a lot," Zuko assured, he knew how important it was to be insured that someone cared. He wasn't going to repeat the mistakes of his childhood, the things that broke him; he refused to let that happen to his nephew. Ozrin kept wailing, but he flicked a quick smile to his uncle and allowed him to pick him up, and Zuko did. He picked Ozrin up and began to carry him outside.

Zuko emerged from the apartment with the shattered, little boy close in his arms. Mai and Katara holding Ursa came rushing towards them.

"Zuko, are you okay, is Ozrin hurt, are you both alright?" Mai cried, stroking her husband's cheek, then running her hand through Ozrin's hair.

"Oh, thank goodness, the boy's okay, I had a heart attack as a parent seeing him hang from a four-story window above those rocks!" Katara exclaimed.

"Daddy!" Ursa cried, reaching for her father to hold her.

"Stay with Aunt Katara a minute," Zuko replied to his daughter's begging.

"Are you okay, Zuko?" Katara asked in concern, but Zuko ignored her, only furthering her worry for her dear friend.

"Mai, would you hold him a minute," Zuko said as he handed their nephew to his wife, and both Mai and Katara's eyes bolted open wide.

"Zuko, he-he's, Ozrin is covered in blood!" Mai shouted in a husky whisper.

"I-I know, Mai, please, just…I have to talk to Aang, okay," Zuko said as his voice cracked and Mai took the boy.

"Zuko!" Katara cried, holding Ursa, as Zuko solemnly walked away, and Mai and Katara looked each other in the eye with mutual concern for Zuko. Zuko found the avatar by the punch bowl, his daughter had been begging him for a glass, and she was seated near her newlywed aunt and uncle. Zuko stood behind Aang, too emotionally exhausted to get his attention, he was just waiting for him to turn around and take notice. Aang finally turned to merrily bring his daughter punch, he was in a great mood, one of his best friends and his brother-in-law were just married, and the band was about to play one of his favorite tunes. But he halted, seeing Zuko standing there in solitude.

"Zuko?" Aang asked in concern, sensing his brokenness.

"I need your advice, Aang…" Zuko said, diverting his tear-glossed gaze out of eye contact from his shame.

"Sure, Zuko, what's the problem?" The avatar said comfortingly.

"Well, um…you're the avatar, so I thought…I needed to come to you because…I don't know, I figured consulting you first was something I need to do as a leader…." Zuko trailed off, stalling.

"It's alright, buddy, you can ask me," Aang said with a laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Aang," Zuko said seriously and sullenly as Aang's cheery demeanor changed, "My sister is _dead_."

"What?" Aang said in disbelief.

"Azula is dead," Zuko repeated, choking out a sob, "She jumped off her balcony and tried to kill Ozrin, she's dead."

"I-I…" Aang stammered.

"Ozrin is fine, I'm going to let him live with me," Zuko stated, lump in throat.

"I-I…th-that sounds fine, Zuko, I-are…Zuko…" Aang fumbled more.

"I thought I should tell you," Zuko continued, biting his lip, "Because she was a…war criminal…also under your mercy, like my father, so…I just thought you ought to know."

"Zuko…" Aang muttered as Zuko finally cracked, and began to cry. Aang pulled his friend into a comforting embrace and Zuko sobbed. He hated hurting this much, and he knew it's just what Azula wanted, she wanted him to suffer and hurt more, but he couldn't help it, she was winning even in death. In curiosity and concern, Mai and Katara followed Zuko into the beverage hall, the two toddlers still held on their hips. Zuko kept weeping into Aang's shoulder, as Aang explained to his wife and friend that Azula had committed suicide and they both were stunned. Mai too cried in perhaps more reluctance than Zuko. She'd grown up with the girl, she and Ty Lee would once call her their best friend. Katara also broke down in tears of sympathy for Zuko and Ozrin. The once powerful princess of the Fire Nation was dead at her own hand, giving no one else the satisfaction.

The service was small, lonely, and short. The only attendees being Aang, Katara, Toph, Suki, and Sokka, who were all only there for Zuko, Iroh, Mai, Ursa, Ozrin, and Ty Lee. Iroh wept, he felt guilty, he felt like he should've helped his niece the way he did his nephew, Ty Lee and Mai cried for the girl they once spent summers with and giggled with in schoolyards, and Zuko cried for the baby sister he pledged to protect and swore to try to repair, Ozrin cried in horrible grief for the mother who never loved him, which only upset Zuko further. But the only other tears shed were out of sympathy for Zuko and heartache for the little, orphaned, bastard boy.

Seven years went by. Ozrin grew up like a prince of the Fire Nation, and Zuko loved him like a son. Zuko brought him to all of the meetings and even instructed him in the ways of the dual sword, Mai took it upon herself to teach him the art of knife throwing. She also tried to teach her daughter this, but she never quite had the knack for it the way Ozrin did. Ozrin also grew up through the close, extended family Team Avatar had become. The way Ursa would call the avatar and his wife by aunt and uncle, he did too, and Ursa also loved Ozrin like a brother. If there was one thing the boy wasn't short on, it was love. His cousin, his uncle, his aunt, his great-uncle, and all of his uncle's friends and their children, his best friends, loved him to death. Yet, he still felt empty, out of place.

Ozrin was a quiet and sullen boy, but he had a temper, and a bit of a mean-streak when brought out. He also was extremely intelligent. He kept to himself and only spoke when he was spoken to. He thought everything he did wrong would be met with a physical punishment, the twelve-year-old still wasn't recovered from his traumatic childhood, and he'd still wake up screaming with visions of his mother's blood. He also could never ignore the hushed whispers and the derogatory names he would still be called at school, bastard the most common, along with constant belittling of being the son of the horrid Princess Azula.

Ozrin didn't know why, but he subconsciously always leaned on the edge of balconies when he lost his mind in a constellation of thoughts. Zuko never said anything. It was another evening for constellations and constellation thoughts.

"Hey, bud," Zuko said as he clapped his shoulder, startling him.

"Uncle Zuko," Ozrid said with a light chuckle, "I didn't see you there."

"You okay?" Zuko asked, ruffling his hair, noticing his topknot was thrown off the balcony then.

"What'd you do that for? Those are ancient?" Zuko snapped.

"It's not like I deserve to wear it!" Ozrin shouted to his uncle.

"What kind of nonsense is that!" Zuko yelled obliviously.

"You know! You know what it is! I'm the bastard son of a star-crossed, psychopathological, sociopathic princess!" Ozrin cried and Zuko's eyes widened, then he narrowed them in anger.

"Don't you ever say that about yourself, young man!" Zuko chastised sharply.

"But it's tru-"

"No. There will be enough people out there disparaging you, don't add yourself to the list," Zuko said bluntly.

"You don't know what it's like, you have no idea!" Ozrin cried, "There was this girl…" Ozrin began, starting to blush and Zuko grinned.

"Yeah," Zuko prompted.

"Well…I-I liked her, okay! And, she, she laughed at me! I asked her to hang out and she laughed, she told me her father would never let her date a psychopath's kid," Ozrin grumbled, "They all hate me. They think I'm just like her!"

"I see…" Zuko said with a sigh.

"You don't know what it's like! You have no idea how it is to be judged because your one parent was…a terrible person! I'm not my mother!" Ozrin cried and Zuko couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.

"Ozrin, that's been my whole life," Zuko said, wrapping his arm around his nephew's shoulder. "I know exactly how you feel, you think the rest of the world trusted Fire Lord Ozai's son? The guy who tried to kill the entire city of Ba Sing Se? I had my face to prove his cruelty and ruthlessness. Not to mention, my whole lineage that started the war and committed mass genocide. Did I think it was fair? They thought I was my father, and to be honest, I went through…no, I still go through struggles wondering if I'll be like him too."

"You're nothing like that monster, Uncle Zuko!" Ozrin demanded.

"I know…But…sometimes, I doubt myself, it's a struggle…maybe even a temptation. I used to worry, when your cousin was born, that's when I was literally terrified I'd be like him. If there was something I didn't want to be most not like him, it was in fatherhood, I wouldn't even hold Ursa until she was three months old. My friends, uncle, your aunt…they all kept convincing me I'd never be that cruel, that I was a good man, but I didn't trust myself. But then, when I held her, and the more time I spent with Ursa, and then later, you, I knew I could never be like him."

"…But why then, Uncle?" Ozrin asked.

"I knew I could never hurt either of you too, and that's where my father went wrong. He abused your mother and I, he tried to kill me, and he never loved us. But I love you and Ursa more than anything in the entire world, and when I looked at your little faces, I knew I could never hurt a hair on your heads. I finally forgave myself, I let myself believe I wasn't him. And, Ozrin, you sure are not your mother. Don't let yourself or anyone convince you that you are, you're never the result of your parents, and you're you, your own person, and no copy. You're a great boy, Ozrin, you're compassionate and you have a big heart, plus, you never had the lying skills like your mother, I could always tell."

"You…you really mean that, Uncle?" Ozrin asked earnestly, and Zuko smiled, getting flashbacks of heart-to-hearts with his own uncle.

"Of course I do, and it'll get better, I promise," Zuko said.

"Thank you, Uncle Zuko," Ozrin said with a smile, and he meant it, for everything, not just this pep talk, for raising him, saving him.

"You're welcome, bud," Zuko said as he pulled his nephew into a hug.

"I love you, Uncle," Ozrin said.

"I love you too, Ozrin," Zuko replied as he affectionately rubbed his nephew's back. The boy strikingly reminded him of himself of his own struggles and relationships. He vowed to be standing there beside him through the whole ride, just as his uncle had and continued to do. History truly was doomed to repeat itself one way or another.


End file.
